I'm Not Stupiiid

Last night Mark and I bought a lamp for our "morning room". As soon as we were in the house, Mark set to work hanging the black-retroish-hanging-upside down-dome. He quickly encountered a problem. The mounting plate that came with the light didn't have big enough holes to fit the screws that fit the box in the ceiling. My brilliant engineer of a husband puzzled over this for two hours. When I got frustrated, and told him that he should just take the screwdriver and puncture bigger holes in it. When he informed me he didn't have enough strength, I said "Bash it with a hammer". Guess what? IT WORKED!! Point - Sarah. Not that we're keeping score or anything, because marriages don't work like that - right?
However, a new problem was discovered only a few minutes later.
Once Mark attached all the wires - the light didn't turn on. Ground to ground, red to red, white to white. Simple, right?
Apparently, not.
After much hemming, and hawing - I climbed on up to see if I could spot anything amiss. And I did, right away, actually. The wires coming down from the ceiling only had teeny nubs of copper sticking out from the insulation. After watching my daddy for a billion years, I learned that this was not correct.
I brought this up to Mark.
Where, he felt I was trying to puncture holes in the cape that is his manly pride; got frustrated, informed me of things about the wire caps - I already knew - and then pretty much said "you're an idiot housewife - you know nothing". And then he beat on his chest a little. (Ok, he didn't actually say that. Or do that. But that was the gist. I won't give you actual quotes, as that would make him look horrible.)
So what did I do?
I called my Daddy. The knower of all things household chore/home repair related.
After a quick recap on the sitch', he pretty much confirmed my theory. It was either that or there was no power to that box - in which case - Pulte would have some 'splainin' to do...
This ticked off hubband.
Then we went to bed. Because sometimes, it's best to just sleep it off.

After some rest, he stripped some insulation of the wires, reattached, and we are now glowing brilliantly in the "morning room".
He now feels like a jackass, and brayed his apologies to me underneath said light.
So, Note to men. When your wife wants a light hung in her morning room (this isn't a euphamism, btw) and she offers you a suggestion, she probably isn't saying it to hurt your pride. She probably just wants the damn light hung.